


The Prince's Diaries

by fanetjuh



Series: Jonsa Week [24]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Princess Diaries Fusion, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Inspired by Princess Diaries, Jonsaexchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 22:42:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15806025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanetjuh/pseuds/fanetjuh
Summary: He had fallen in love with the people, with the kingdom, with the legacy of his father and how highly everyone spoke of him. He had wanted to make his father proud. He had wanted his father to look down and see his son, expanding the dream his father had started.He had not wanted to shoot a burning arrow through an iron ring to prove that he was a true king. He didn’t understand what being able to do that had to do with being a good king.





	The Prince's Diaries

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheseWords_MyDiary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseWords_MyDiary/gifts).



> This was written for the Jonsa Exchange on Tumblr and was based on the Princess Diaries' iconic scene from the second movie. I added a little extra and Jon and Sansa are already in an established relationship, but I hope you'll like it!

Jon had his tongue between his lips and he focussed on the iron ring fifty feet away from him. He had begged his tutor to practice one more time without burning arrows, but the tutor had refused. 

In ten days he would be crowned as King of Westeros. In ten days he would have to be able to shoot that burning arrow through that iron ring to light the ever burning flame of the king. 

He couldn’t postpone practicing with fire any longer.

“Your footing is off.” Sansa all of a sudden appeared next to him and Jon let the burning arrow fly uncontrolled. 

Luckily there were two servants tasked with making sure he wouldn’t burn the entire garden down and before the flames could do much damage they were already taken care of. 

“It's not just my footing.” Jon rolled his eyes. “I'm not good with this thing.” He reached for another arrow and held the tip in the burning flame next to him. “My hands are trembling.” He proved his point but carefully positioned the arrow on the string. “I can’t aim.” He pulled back and closed one eye. “And my timing is horrible.” He let the arrow fly, but once again it came not even anywhere near the iron ring. “I already didn’t want to be king. If I had known I had to shoot a burning arrow through an iron ring, I would have stayed in the North, where I belong.”

Sansa wrapped her arms around Jon and her soft lips touched his stubbled cheek. “You worry too much, Jon.” She spoke softly and before Jon could reach for another arrow she reached for one instead. “Your footing, aim and timing are horrible because you don’t believe in yourself.” She reached for his bow and he gave it to her without hesitation. She dipped the point of the arrow in the burning flame and smoothly she positioned the arrow, pulled back the string and let it go. 

The arrow flew through the iron ring and enflamed the beacon behind it. Of course it did.

Sansa had always been the one destined to be a princess, a queen. She had been the one reading all those books about princes kissing their loved ones awake and dancing with them at expensive balls. She had begged her mother for expensive dresses and a white horses. She had dreamed of finding a dragon egg or dwarves in the woods. 

But Sansa wasn’t the lost princess of Westeros. Jon was. Jon was the only remaining Targaryen. Jon was the only one who could make sure that nasty people wouldn’t claim the throne of the kingdom. 

And the worst part? His mother had never bothered to tell him. She had always fed him stories about his father being someone of no importance. She had always assured him that looking for him would only end with disappointment. She had always convinced him that she could be his father and mother at once. 

And he had believed her. 

Sometimes he wished he never would have found out about all of this. He had been perfectly happy being an ordinary boy, with average grades and a group of amazing friends. He had been perfectly happy with having to work to attend his fencing classes. He had been perfectly happy being invisible. 

And then all of a sudden his aunt had shown up. Rambling about the kingdom of Westeros, his father and that she really needed him to come home to claim that crown before someone else would steal it and would burn down everything his father had built. 

And he had tried to say no. He had tried to not have anything to do with it. 

And then Sansa had called him downright crazy for refusing the position of prince, of king. 

And he had started to doubt. And he had agreed to give it a try. And he had fallen in love with the people, with the kingdom, with the legacy of his father and how highly everyone spoke of him. He had wanted to make his father proud. He had wanted his father to look down and see his son, expanding the dream his father had started.

He had not wanted to shoot a burning arrow through an iron ring to prove that he was a true king. He didn’t understand what being able to do that had to do with being a good king. 

Wasn’t being a good king about the people? Wasn’t being a good king about helping those in need and supporting those who were accomplishing great things? Wasn’t being a good king about putting your kingdom’s needs before your own?

“Come on, Jon…” Sansa gave him the bow back and positioned herself behind him. Her breasts touched his back and he felt his heart racing in his chest. “All you need to do is relax. I promise that you will shoot infinitely better If you just relax.”

Of course. He just had to relax. It was that simple. He just had to stop being nervous about what would happen if he wouldn’t succeed, if he would miss, if he wouldn’t be able to light that fire. He just had to forget that his entire future and the future of the kingdom was on the line. 

He had already asked his aunt if they couldn’t just fake it, but Daenerys had told him that the people would know and that the people would care. Especially those people that were after the throne and would do anything to harm his reputation and public image.

“You're tensing all your muscles, Jon…” Sansa leaned on the tips of her toes and wrapped her arms around him. “Here, let me help you.” She planted her soft lips in his neck and her hands wandered over his chest, lower and lower until she could move her hand under his shirt. The tips of her fingers danced on the naked skin of his tummy, of his breastbone and then her sharp nail circled around one of his nipples.

“You're not helping, Sansa.” Jon grumbled, but he couldn’t help but close his eyes while her hand touched his sensitive skin. “You're only distracting me.” 

“I know…” Her lips kept kissing his neck. “I'm trying to chase all those dark and disabling thoughts from your mind.”

Jon leaned back for a moment and then he realized that they were in the garden, surrounded by butlers and servants. “They're watching us…”

“And?” Sansa sucked on his earlobe. “I'm your girlfriend, you’re my boyfriend. It’s not like I ripped the clothes from your body and straddled you while you lay flat on your back in the grass.” She spoke softly and it was almost enchanting. “And on top of that I can be very subtile with such things.”

Jon snorted. “Trust me, it’s not you I worry about.” 

Sansa pulled her hand back and stepped around him to face him. “Jon…” She pressed the palms of her hands to his now glowing and sweating cheeks. “Is there anything you can do without worrying?” Her eyes stared straight into his and Jon opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again because he didn’t really know what to say. “You, Jon Targaryen…” She didn’t use his true name that often, but he liked the way it sounded when she said it. “Need to stop thinking and start enjoying.” She moved a little closer. “In ten days you’ll be the king of Westeros and you’ll be damn good at it. All you need to do is shoot that arrow and light that fire.” She stepped even closer and Jon could feel her warm breath on his face. “And once you’re king, you can do everything you want. You can build a huge library. You can save all those puppies from a long and miserable lonely life. You can build a thousand orphanages and hospitals. And people will love you for it.”

Jon swallowed. “If I manage to shoot that arrow.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Stop worrying. Let it go. Believe in yourself. In that arrow. You’ve been practicing for weeks. Your arms know how to do it. Your muscles know how to do it. Don’t worry. Just shoot.” She stepped back and nodded at him and Jon raised his bow.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His feet turned a little. His shoulders tensed. He felt his finger trembling while he pulled the string. 

“Think of my hand, of me, kissing you, touching you, loving you…” Sansa whispered and Jon pictured her in his mind. Her bright red lips, her soft and tender hands, her silken skin, her breasts, her belly, her everything. 

And while his lips curled up into a smile, he let the arrow go. 

“Jon!” Sansa clapped her hands and her almost scream pierced through his mind, destroying the pretty image he was picturing. “Look!” 

Jon opened his eyes and stared at the bright fire behind the iron ring.

“You did it!” Sansa wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his lips.

He was too baffled to kiss her back. This was a trick. This had to be a trick. He couldn’t have done that. He couldn’t have lightened that fire with his arrow. He wasn’t good enough to do that. 

“You really did it!” Sansa curled her lips up into a smile and Jon couldn’t help but smiling too. “You're gonna be king of Westeros!”

“And you’re gonna be my queen.” Jon put the bow on the ground and took a deep breath. “But first…” He lifted her up and ignored her shrieks and pleas to put her down again. “You're gonna finish what you’ve started. Out of sight. Where no-one can see us. Where you can rip the clothes from my body and straddle me while I lay flat on my back.”


End file.
